Memory
by tir-synni
Summary: He couldn't even bring himself to scream. Sephiroth wouldn't allow his puppet to scream. Noncon. SephCloud.


Title: Memory  
Pairing: Seph/Cloud  
Rating: R  
Warnings: spoilers, implied rape, mind-fuckery

Cloud Strife could not remember how he got there. It took him a long moment to even realize where "there" was. Looking around the small field, the sun not yet lighting the area, Cloud instinctively reached for his sword. His Mako-sharpened ears caught the sound of Barrett's familiar snores far behind him in the same moment he realized he did not have his blade.

"There is no need for puppets to be armed."

Realizing belatedly that he did not even have his usual Materia on him, Cloud whirled around even as he raised his hands into a guard pose. It wasn't much, but a punch from him was still deadly. Unfortunately, by Sephiroth's small smile, he was not impressed.

"You're not still pretending to fight, are you?" Sephiroth asked softly, and Cloud flinched. The tall warrior stepped closer, and Cloud instinctively stepped back, the rough brush scratching his heels. Sephiroth's smile sharpened, green eyes gleaming, and Cloud realized bleakly that he only had his pants on. Any weapons hidden in his shirt and shoes were gone. "You came here willingly enough."

Cloud automatically shook his head. He hated this man. The only way he wanted to be near him was with a blade in his hands.

Yet he still couldn't remember how he _got there_.

Sephiroth's coat swished about him as he stepped closer. "Pretty little puppet," he mocked quietly, and Cloud clenched his fists. "Pretending to have free will."

_Pretending . . . _ "AVALANCHE will destroy you," Cloud forced out, defiance unsteady on his tongue. What was he doing here? Why was he unarmed? _Why wasn't he screaming for aid?_

Eyes shining in the dark, Sephiroth stepped closer. Cloud willed his limbs to strike out at this monster, but they refused. A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat. He couldn't control his own fists. He couldn't even control his own vocal cords.

_Aeris . . . please . . ._

Sephiroth snatched Cloud's wrist and yanked him closer. Cloud froze. "Mother will destroy this Planet and the pathetic creatures that reside on it," Sephiroth murmured. He leaned down to breathe the words into Cloud's face, and Cloud could feel each word, hot and moist, against his skin. "You will be one of the few spared, my puppet loyal at my side. I asked for her specifically to spare you."

Cloud wanted to scream—he knew Vincent at least would hear—but he couldn't manage it. All he could manage was the "Why?" Sephiroth seemed to be expecting, and the realization made him sick.

_Scream, Cloud. Just scream. Vincent will hear you even if Sephiroth cuts you off. Just scream._

Why wasn't he screaming? …why was even the urge to scream fading?

Sephiroth raised his free hand and fingered Cloud's cheek. Silently, Cloud turned away. "Because you are my puppet. And I will not let you go."

_This man . . . this man . . ._

Trailing his fingers down, Sephiroth touched Cloud's chin, his throat, his chest. Cloud hissed softly when Sephiroth scraped his nails over flat nipples. They hardened, and Cloud looked away so he would not see that damnable (_beautiful_) smile.

"Lovely," Sephiroth whispered, and Cloud flinched as the warrior tightened his grip on his wrist. Then Sephiroth let go and wrapped his arm around Cloud's waist. Cloud couldn't manage a protest as the man dragged him to the ground. The dirt and grass scratched his back; Cloud closed his eyes. "Don't be ashamed. It's an honor to be considered Mine. We will travel this universe together with Mother."

Cloud shook his head frantically, bile burning the back of his throat. His spikes brushed against the ground.

And he still could not make himself scream when Sephiroth's hands trailed down, down, down to his pants. Cloud's breath caught when those long fingers caught the edges of his pants and underwear and dragged them down. Cloud's head rolled to the side, and he stared in the direction of Barrett's snores.

When Sephiroth left, he only gifted Cloud with a parody of a kiss, the smell of oil and sex heavy in the air. Vincent found the blank-eyed blond before dawn and cleaned him up without a word.

In the morning, Cloud didn't want to remember how he acquired the fierce ache in his spine.

He did anyway. 


End file.
